


The Consequences of Falling

by Wanderbird



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Supernatural
Genre: Falling Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Gen, Light Angst, M/M, Memory Loss, Oneshot, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-19 20:25:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19363603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wanderbird/pseuds/Wanderbird
Summary: Alone in Bobby's house, Dean finds himself face to face with pretty much the only demon he has the faintest iota of trust in, and has a long (depressing) conversation.Cas is Falling, after all.As for him, Anthony J. Crowley mostly just pities the hunter at this point. (The discomfort definitely isn't because he sees himself in the man.)





	The Consequences of Falling

"Why are you even here?" Dean sounded exasperated. Worn. "I thought you fucked off when your angel buddy showed up, never to return."  
Crowley gave a sigh. He shouldn't be doing this, honestly, he really shouldn't. But what other choice did he have? Ca-- whatever that angel's name was, he'd meant something to Aziraphale, who would probably have Crowley's head if he learned that he'd just knowingly let one of Azi's few angelic friends Fall all alone and confused. "I'm here because I've been where your angel friend is, and I was very nearly where you are now, and if it were me I'd do anything to know what was happening."  
The human froze. "What are you talking about? Cas is, Cas is fine."  
Fine, my arse, Crowley couldn't help the thought. "And the memory problems? How's that working out for you?" Dean's face was a dead giveaway. "Let me tell you, they'll get one hell of a lot worse before they get any better. He's Falling and it sucks and he's going to need all the help he can get."  
After a long moment, Dean finally sat down at the table, hands clenched on its surface, face dull. "What can he expect?" This Crowley had helped him before, after all. What was he supposed to do?  
A wince. "See, that's the problem," Crowley followed suit. "He can't expect anything. I told you the memory problems are about to get worse, well, I wasn't just saying that. You've got a few years, maybe even a decade, before he reaches that stage, but for the worst of it your, your angel friend isn't going to be able to remember more than a few minutes, maybe only thirty seconds or so at a time, except for whatever heavenly propaganda they decide gets to stick around. And there's lots of other things he'll forget too. His name. Being upstairs, I mean there isn't a fallen angel in the universe that remembers actually being an angel, not more than a few snippets. Typically a demon will remember just enough of being in Heaven to know they were much happier there, and I have literally never of anyone remembering their name, or what it was they did to get kicked out of the club. And he'll be like that for probably around ten years! Every time you wake up is the first time, every time you open your eyes you forget the rest of your life. Every day, the only thing he's going to even be capable of holding in that head of his for more than a minute is that he used to be an angel and everything was wonderful, but that he did something horrible and is no longer worthy. That's it."

"That is such bullshit!" the man exclaimed.  
A shrug. "I'm not arguing with you. But again, been there, done that. I've seen enough angels Falling, I'm pretty sure I know how it works by now. It comes on gradually, ends abruptly. You've probably already noticed the start of it."  
There was a long pause before Dean spoke up again. "Cas says it hurts, sometimes. A burning pain, like his whole body's going up in flames. He wakes up screaming."  
Crowley nodded. "That'll be the hellfire part. It gets better, over time. You become immune."  
"Ten years."  
"The whole forgetting thing starts up slowly but it goes away pretty quick, when it's done. He should remember some, after that. How wonderful Heaven was. Maybe a little more. And he'll be able to make new memories again," he added, "which is important since he almost certainly won't recall shit about his life beforehand, definitely nothing about you and your brother. And he'll probably need a new name, something you can call him, because the name-- what was his name again? Your angel's name, it's already pretty much struck from all celestial records. Nobody, Celestial or Infernal, will ever really be able to remember what it was except for maybe the very top few angels. Try and call him whatever it was--"  
"Castiel," Dean pushed.  
"Right, right, Cas. Try and keep calling him Castiel and even he's gonna forget who you're talking about pretty soon." He fiddled with an extra pair of sunglasses in one hand. "It sounds like that doesn't really effect you humans, though, so I guess you'll still get to know it." He let out a humorless chuckle. "You know, for however long you last." Ugh. It wasn't even him or Aziraphale Falling, but even just thinking about it still sent prickles down his spine. "Look," Crowley rubbed his forehead a bit. "I'll keep an eye on Hell for you, and if I notice him downstairs I'll get him out and bring him back to you. It won't even be too hard, I mean he is officially a demon now, he'll be on the happier side of the pitchforks, so to speak. More so than me. But if you can't take care of him I'll have to work something out with Azi instead. I was alone when I Fell. Never again."  
Dean's reply was immediate.  
"I've got him." That was quick. "No matter what happens."

Anthony Crowley stood. "Thanks for not shooting me this time. Or splashing me with holy water, or otherwise forcing me to avoid Aziraphale until I'm healed if I don't want you lunatics getting smote. Real chummy of you." It was a sign of how grim things had gotten for the hunter that he didn't even make a crude remark at that. "I'll be getting on then."

"Wait--"  
Crowley stopped.  
"One more question," Dean's voice shook almost undetectably beneath that thin veneer of calm, hands rubbing creases in the tablecloth. "You said you were very nearly where, where I was. What did you..."  
The demon swallowed a brand new lump that had risen in his throat, eyes flicking between the walls of the room. "The only being with the authority to make Aziraphale Fall is the Almighty. Fortunately, she's also just about the one being with any kind of power in Heaven who doesn't want him to do so. So they tried to kill us both instead." And before Dean could ask another uncomfortable question, Crowley slipped on out the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are both appreciated. <3
> 
> -Ent


End file.
